


The beloved flavour of monotony

by astralprojects



Series: Second Person Fics [4]
Category: BanG Dream! (Anime), BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, POV Second Person, Real Life, This doesn't fit any tags, Yuri, daily life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:49:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25590859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astralprojects/pseuds/astralprojects
Summary: It's a mundane life, but you live it with her.
Relationships: Hikawa Sayo/Imai Lisa
Series: Second Person Fics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854790
Comments: 16
Kudos: 59





	The beloved flavour of monotony

The sunlight slips through the drapes in misshapen slots. It's dyed the same colour as it was yesterday.

You pay it no mind, curling that arm around the waist of the woman lying beside you with a little more attention; you know what the sun's rays look like anyway.

A watercolour sky stretches out above the roof of your house. Bleak, dreary, an uninteresting runny grey tinge. The clouds imprinted in its surface float aimlessly in translucent wisps. But that doesn't matter, really; your eyes are still closed, and you'll open them to see the same stained cream ceiling you have for the past two years of your life.

There's a chill in the tasteless air, just barely. The windows likely didn't close properly when she tried to shut them, or the cold outside will nip at you both so haughtily that it's already decided to taunt you from the dull comfort of your home, seeping through the glass.

Either way, you refuse to let it win one over you. Grumbling, you fidget under the sheets to regain the peace you lost, knocking your legs with hers in the process. That's no serious issue either. You tangle them together naturally and that peace is returned to you once again.

Her hair tickles your nose. Each time it happens, you could've sworn that you got used to it, but you stand corrected like always. Besides, her hair is practically an unruly lion's mane in the mornings, though no-one else can know that unless they bear regretful witness to it first. And she won't let that happen. That'll occur over her dead body (so you hope that's not anytime soon).

Far too stubborn to be beaten so easily, you burrow into her hair further in the hopes that your nerves will construct a sudden tolerance to the sensation or somehow confuse the texture with something more agreeable and stop.

But that doesn't happen, so you huff and pull back with a familiar sense of reluctance. The world is bland and harsh, and it doesn't even spare you a second to cuddle with your girlfriend in the morning. How generous.

You drag the locked hoop of your arms higher up her body until they come to rest on her midriff, then you contract them firmly. Maybe this will be enough for today.

Acting on instinct alone, you lean into the back of her head again and are surprised by the irritating feeling it gives you once more.

You jerk your head back. Don't sneeze, don't sneeze. Don't wake her up. It's the weekend and she's working from home, while your shift is truncated hours arranged for later in the day. You can sleep in too, but you woke up on schedule like always, and you're not going to be responsible for disturbing her when she's earned the rest.

"Mmph… Mornin', Sayo."

Damn it.

Good going. Since you couldn't go one minute without fitting against her, you selfishly roused her from her slumber. 

"Why are you up?"

"My body clock considers me its enemy," you answer simply. "I didn't mean to wake you up. I'm sorry, Lisa."

"Nah, you didn't. It's cool," she assures you, rubbing her eyes so the last drops of sleep will shed from them. "You better not have been up for… Too long."

"I can't tell how long I've been awake. I didn't check the clock."

She squints tiredly at the figures. You can't read them from behind her.

"It's only half eight, that's fine," she guesses. The realisation strikes that you've been awake in bed for far too long, but you bite down on your tongue so she isn't worried by it. "How did you sleep?"

"Well enough. What about you?"

"Yeah." She tousles in your arms, trying to turn over into your chest instead, but eventually considers it fruitless and relaxes.

You say nothing, tracing a lazy finger down her knotted mop of hair in a rhythm you've worked out over the passing years. The motion is fixed, for now. You don't know if it'll be adjusted by tomorrow, for better or for worse. That, too, wouldn't be a hassle. You're both used to it.

In a way, such a routinely yet comforting thing reflects you as a pair. You don't delve deeper into that thought - you just soak in her temporary closeness to you.

Half an hour later, you struggle on the forgettable outfit you prepared for yourself yesterday. She throws on the first thing she sees, her usual make-up abandoned because you're the only one here.

You make it down the stairs before her, so shake the first box of cereal you see into a bowl, mixing with the contents of a now-empty carton of milk. She asks you if you'll eat the fruit that's about to go off in the afternoon. You thought she was going to have it, but agree nonetheless.

Her laptop snaps open with a quiet click. You ask her questions about the work she's doing, but she doesn't know the answers. Giving her a quick kiss for a reason you don't have or need, you trudge back up the stairs.

She smiles as you go.

You watch her work through the door you left ajar, and an uncomplicated and naive happiness trickles its way into you. 

It's a mundane life, but you live it with her, and that's all you need.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this when I was supposed to be writing Polyfonica because I like Sayolisa.
> 
> This was written while I was listening to "I'm glad you're evil too" by pinocchioP, and a bit of inspiration was taken from that.


End file.
